A/N: To Hell and Back Again is the first of a planned trilogy with each instalment spanning one of Vegetas 3 lives. This first story is divided into 3 sections, or parts. The first part, the 1st ten chapters of this story, covers Vegeta's early childhood and pre-Frieza life. Please bear with me concerning the pacing. (Or give me tips/reason to speed it up!)

I had been planning to write this story for a long time now. I was inspired by many of the great fics found on this very site. I had delayed, for one reason or another, the writing of it for almost 3 years and had come to think I would NEVER write it. It is largely due to one writer, Maddie-San, that this tale is finally being written and submitted for your reading pleasure and my ego stroking.

Like any other narcissist- I mean, writer, I truly enjoy feedback on my work. So please, take a few seconds (or several) after you have read this chapter and leave a review. Thanks for reading.

CHAPTER 1. Looking Back

I may not look it, but I am old.

Years past my expiration date and the time is beginning to take its toll on me.

Oh, by human standards, I dont look old. My wife would say that I was perfectly middle aged in my appearance but I am closing in on the end, which is someting that no longer causes me discomfort to think about. I am beginning to feel my age now, more often than not. I find more and more often I am likely to nap in the middle of the day, when, in the past, I barely slept 4 times a week on Earth. Now, I'm napping an hour away almost every other day.

Despite how long its been, how old I am, I can still recall my earlier days.

After carrying the memories the majority of my life, and piling in so much more knowledge and a million or more new experiences, it might be considered amazing that I can still recall my childhood, my first and earliest life. But I can... I spend so much time remembering now, the house is quiet. My children are grown and though I still train daily, I've began to take small breaks during the day.

Before any such a break was driven by some urgent need; I'd be hungry, or likely, I'd need to pee. But, my appetite isn't as strong as it once was and without the Bimbo around to cook, well...Lets just say that I can stand to eat just twice a day without feeling deprived.

My earliest memories are vague in my mind now, but only a little more vague to me now than they were when I was 12, or 20, or 35 even. Yet, they are there and they are true. If I close my eyes and empty my mind, the image will come...

I'm in a garden, gazing out in awe at a pond, or the remains of one. The damage isn't extensive, not compared to what it could have been, but I caused that mayhem and the power is dissolving around me in the air and I am thrilled and tickled by the sensation of it.

Discomfort of any sort, is absent from the memory of that sensation.

There is no pain or hunger, only satisfaction as I laugh at the ruined pond that my first successful energy blast destroyed, quite by accident.

I can still feel a faint echo of pure joy and wonder, when I see that picture in my head.

I was a year old.

I do not remember getting in trouble for it, but I know that I did. Because Sparga, one of my fathers many sons, got in trouble for not watching me properly and held it over my head for as long as he lived that when my mother saw what I'd been allowed to do to her garden, she'd punished us both-or rather, told me "No" in a very firm voice while he was punished for my misdeeds.

I grin now as I recall that it surprised my Earth companions and family, many years and two lifetimes later when they learned that I had a younger brother.

Bulma in particular was incensed that I'd never deemed to tell her about Tarble. She'd lose it if I were to tell her about all the others

It shouldn't have been a shock though. To her or any of the others.

Tarble was only one of my fathers many bastard offspring. Being the king comes with perks, you know. Its only common sense that having as many concubines as you want would be one of them. Since humans in their modern societies seem inclined to monogamy, it would put Bulma off to learn that Saiyans aren't.

Saiyans are territorial, Saiyans are possessive of the few things that we have "declared" as ours, but we rarely call dibs.

My people are natural rovers and wanderers. Possessions slow you down. They get in the way, they are not neccessary. We use our strenght, agility and instinct to live. We built a few cities, but intentionally left as much of the planet intact as nature had shaped it. In the city it was far more common for a Saiyan to sleep on his roof, then IN his house, if he even bothered to have one.

We are creatures of habit and dont like too much switching between routines. Since we tended to camp out in the open when on an adventure and some kind of way, the habit got passed down from one generation to the next and before you know it, its only natural for us, sleeping in the open. So we did, even when we had other options.

Anyway, where was I?

We Saiyans have no royal couple. We have either a King or a Queen, but always just one leader at any given time. The Rulers strongest, most capable child is named the heir and upon the death of their parent, they become the new ruler.

In general, at almost any given point in our history, there was a shortage of females among the Saiyan population, but in the past several generations their numbers had come back up...some.

My father was the king, he had 7 concubines and a mistress.

(The only difference is concubines are officiated as having been selected by the King as his mates, he can dismiss them from his harem or retain them for as long as he's alive. If anyone were to screw one of his Concubines well, they'd die a very slow, very painful death and they'd do it without their man-parts. Mistresses are unofficial and tend to remain with strictly the king for favor or political protection.)

Anyway, Mother wasn't any one special prior to my father officiating her as his concubine. While his other concubines had been taken for one strategic political purpose or another; strengthen a tie with some Saiyan clan with this one, reproduce strong heirs with these three...

Father fancied my mother for her wit and exotic looks, she was on the higher end of being a 2nd class fighter, she came from a family of scholars and loyalists.

A lot of people were outraged when he officiated her as his concubine, but there was little, actually nothing, they could do to stop him. He was the king after all. After he had one man killed for spreading horrific lies about her, the rumors and constant bad mouthing stopped, and people remained respectfully silent on the matter of their union.

After I was classed as an elite at birth, the first baby in a few decades to be born an elite, people no longer had many bad things to say about my mother. As I grew and shone even brighter with potential and promise, their compliments began to grow sincere.

Anyway, I had a good childhood.

I was the appointed heir to lead my people. I had brothers and sisters both older and younger than I, but I was their leader. In the earliest days, it didn't matter so much. I was strong enough to spar with them, and a fast enough learner that my lacking in training didn't cause them to shun me. As I grew, so did their mothers jealousy of me, and by the time I was about 6 or so, I was no longer on good speaking terms with about half my siblings, but for the most part I was neither particularly close nor distant to my siblings.

We didn't share a typical sibling bond, not typical of Saiyans anyway. We ate together a couple of times a month but we all had our own lives, we took lessons with private tutors and trainers. We were, of course, isolated from the majority of Saiyan children, we played with the children of noblemen, of first class and elite warriors. I was protected by a special guard force, and later there was Nappa.

I was very advanced for my age, a true prodigy. I excelled in all things Academic and Martial alike. I moved through classes and levels twice as fast as Cele, one of my sisters who-prior to my arrival-had carried the mark of distinction as being the cleverist of my fathers children.

I spent several months in a grade, where my siblings might've spent a year or more to master the material. At one point or another, I was in a class with all my older siblings, with the exception of any bastards my father sired before being crowned the king, as they were all either adults with children of their own or dead by the time I was born

As I grew more advanced, I also grew more isolated, but I dont think I was lonely. I had mother, a few constant playmates and, ofcourse, Nappa.

Nappa was...

Nappa...

Anyway, ahem... Nappa was my companion.

He became the captain of my guard detail from the time I was a toddler and my teacher as I grew beyond the level of the typical instructors. Beside having been appointed by fate as the heir of my father, and future leader of my people, I was also my fathers favorite. Not just because I was strong, but because I was, in his eyes, the perfect son. I was mild mannered, but fierce. I was intelligent, a great student in both academics and martial arts training. I was clever and good at strategizing. I suppose, looking back, I was a pleasant enough child.

Father admired that I was ambitious, and could sense my devotion to the Saiyan people was genuine. I truly cared about the Saiyans, my people.

My father was a bit...eccentric, I suppose, in that he took interest in all his children and spent time with us, in groups and individually. Not much by human standards, but those 2 or 3 days a month when his children were his complete world, made him nothing short of a phenomenal father by my peoples standards. He was a busy man, but liked to eat with at least some of his children and concubines every now and then.

He'd often stop us in the corridors and ask us some questions about our schooling, our respective mothers and our health. Many times there was a peice of candy to be won out of the whole ordeal, personally I preferred his approving look and hearing him call me his son. Life at the palace was good, but it was nothing compared to campaigning life.

I went on my first mission when I was, oh about 3.5 by human reckoning. No, not on my own. There was a long standing campaign, a series of planets especially reserved for 1st class and elite warrior forces. Unlike the usual, run of the mill, kill-and-conquering missions my fathers soldiers often participated in, this was a diplomatic mission.

The Saiyan Empire had a few allies who provided us with supplies and goods of both a technological and agricultural variety.

It was a true allience, we didn't attack them, they didn't attack us. We were equals, in a political sense anyway. We Saiyans were content to let them live and work with us, and they were content and gracious enough to supplement our foodstores whenever we were running low. Anyway, this mission was 100% strategic. There were 4 planets that had united to try and stage a rebellion. Our allies had taken severe damage and suffering, so we Saiyans were going to teach the rebels a lesson about pissing off Saiyans.

The trip took a long time, or it seemed like a long time to me then. I had never been pinned up anywhere for more than a few hours at a time. I had never been in one bldg. for 2 weeks at a time. I trained with my siblings and seperately, in my spare time because I enjoyed it. My father had had the foresight to bring a few tutors with us, but we children teamed up and managed to drive them all to distraction more often than they could force us to learn.

After the second meal, I'd sneak through the vents and go and spy on my fathers private training sessions. He was drilling katas, every evening (well, the time between the 2nd meal and sleep, anyway. There is no night and day in space) after supper. I had never seen the style before, it wasn't too flashy but there was power in his strikes against the air. He was in a surpression room for a reason, after all.

Once, when the tech went to grab a coffee, I snuck down to get a look at the controls and saw that it was set to 150 R. I didn't know what 150 Resistance meant but I stared in awe and amazement, watching as my father defeated one imaginary opponent after the next. His moves were so precise, so measured, that though he was alone, I could practically see his opponents. I think that he could also.

I was awed!

It felt as though I had seen the battle take place my self, as if, by watching him, I had seen his opponents, witnessed their defeat. I wasn't sure what they were...their features were obscure but their silhouettes were vivid in my minds eye, the more I watched him. I heard the controlman coming back and scrambled back the way I'd come. It'd be my secret.

It took about 3 weeks to get the star system and we were greeted with hostilities, of course. We Saiyans had conquered this planet a generation ago, my father was a little boy when they signed the servient and tribute treatise and become subject to Saiyan rule. The Saiyan peoples survival depeneded, in part, on the various goods that we got from them, we were going to put them back in their place, not wipe them all out. Which is why, despite my eager calls to "wipe these scum bags out!" my father just smiled a little as the ship began to shuddered under the force of the assualt bolts and lasers being fired at us. Father told the pilots to engage the shields.

A minute later, I could still hear the strikes echoing through our sheild and making the air in the ship reverberate with the force, but our course was steady. When we landed, my father assigned each one of his children to a squad of experienced fighters. He reviewed the mission objectives once more, and then sent out his patrols. I, alone, accompanied with him and his elite guard.

We took our time, made an example of the rebel leaders and wore their spirits down, we kept the damage to a minimum and even exercised our Reserve Policy against them. It took a month, but with their leaders dead and their will to fight exhausted, the rebellion was put down and my father set up a Martial Court to rule the planet, and feeling generous, even addressed some of their greivances.

It saddens me now, to know that Saiyans are only remembered as being cruel, souless, mindless, brutes with no real intellect to speak of. But they weren't.

There were stupid Saiyans yes, but stupidity isn't exclusive to anyone race or people. A majority of the Saiyans had been academically ignorant, true. Especially during my great-great grandfathers time and before, but the Monarchy had been working to reverse that problem and we had a 75% literacy rate, we used mercenaries for the bulk of our technological needs, simply because we didn't have the Saiyan-power to work on and develop all the technology we needed, but 13% of our tech staff were Saiyans who'd studied and learned the advanced sciences.

We had a series of treaties with planets known for their academic prowess that allowed a certain number of Saiyan youth to attend their schools each year, provided we paid their tuition and they caused no casualties to the people of those worlds. The moral of the story is; Saiyans weren't inherintely evil, nor were we some big band of monsterous thugs, terrorizing the universe.

We were a people. A whole race. Within the Saiyan race, we possessed all the elements and out-of-the-norm individuals found in a society of sentients. We had enough people to give us all a bad name, but mostly, we were like any other race in that era. There was a boom in colonization and expansion as many races hurried to carve out a future for their own people and posterity.

I was a very small child then, and I had never killed a sentient being before. I'd never seen anyone die. I didn't feel the terror that a weaker being might feel, nor did I feel frightened. Yet, I can admit that I was a bit unsure of myself, that first time I witnessed battle up close.

We'd broken through their barricade in one of the capital cities and stood in the town square, as the rebel soldiers took cover behind barricades and energy shields. Father called for them to surrended. They refused. We gave them one more chance to surrender. I will never forget that the rebel captain cursed my father and his Demon Spawn to hell.

I made a sound in my throat at that. It was intended to sound like a growl, fierce and threatening like my fathers and older brothers. Instead it was a scratchy-squeaky sound that illicited laughter from the enemy that stung even more than their lasers could've.

Father offered them one last chance. They pretended to think about it for just one moment, the next instant, they were firing on us with a mixture of ki blast and laser weapons. The sight of all those brilliant, searing lights racing towards me is another vivid memory. For just an instant the whole world is throw into stark contrasts and the air is too thick and hot to be breathed and then...

The world around me explodes in a rush of sound and smoke and I bit my lips hard so as not to scream but I still make a sound, somewhere between a scream and a yell.

The light was too bright, I closed my eyes at the last moment but I didn't try to dodge anything. I never felt worried that I would be hurt. I distinctly remember NOT being afraid as what might have been death approached me that first time. My eyes, useless because of all the flashes, are closed and I hear a rapid, hollow beating sound and I open my eyes to see, I rub them to clear my vision, like waking from a sleep.

I'm not surprised when I realize that my father had created an energy shield around us just a split second before the blasts hit. The men with us laugh a little and make comments that I don't understand. My father gives them a full minute, then he raises his fist and there is a 'pop' and a 'woosh' as the guards around us leave the safety of the shield and engage our opponent.

We stood together the whole time, Father and I, as a battle raged around us. It was a ground fight. A couple of Saiyans shot down fighter ships but for the most part, it was an old fashioned down to earth brawl. My father stood beside me, commenting on the fight taking place just several feet in front of us.
"Do you see how well our soldiers fight, Vegeta?" he said to me.
I nodded, then remembered myself. "Yes father, they're good aren't they?"

He laughed at that. "These men are some of the best." he tells me. "Do you know why they're fighting?"

"Because those losers attacked us." I volunteered. "They're going to kill'em now, right?" I asked. In my books, people always began dying the instant a Saiyan warrior took the offensive.

Father chuckled, "Yes, my son, These traitors are about to die." He was cool, matter of fact. I beamed at him.

"See there?" he singled out a skirmish between a single Saiyan and unit of the rebels. "If it were you in that fight, what would you do next, Vegeta?"

I replied immediately because I'd already thought about it.

"Take out the gunmans assistant." I pointed. "That other guys keeping his ammo from running out but the gunman himself is useless, thats why he's just a gunman. Even a dummy can hold a button in place." My father and I both grinned at that.

"Why would you target the assistant? Why not the gunman?"
"Because," I said, "the gunman is behind a shield. I saw it when some rocks flew at him and they got turned to dust. But the assistant-guy, he's bleeding from the ear. He's open to attack. If you gotta hide behind trick-shields, you're probably gutless. The gunman'll run the minute he's all out of ammo and then I wouldn't have to get burned just to get him."

The look in my fathers eyes was...pure pride. I stood a little taller knowing that I had caused it. The battle was brief, only about 10 minutes and then the rebels were all dead or fleeing. One tried to crawl away as his legs lay behind him in a tangled mess. One of the guards grabbed him and spoke in a language I didn't understand, he asked him a question, shook him when he took to long to answer and the demanded an answer again. The man croaked something and after a quick glance at my father, who nodded, the soldier snapped the mans neck, effectively ending his misery.

"This way to the magistrates base, my lord." The guard said as he joined us once more. My father took down the shield and we walked on at a brisk pace. We encountered a rebel barricade every hundred yards or so and by the fifth one, my father permitted me to join the fray.

I'd like to say I made my first kill that day, that I was a regular trooper from jump but the truth is it would be a few more years before I killed a sentient being, a person who could intelligently communicate their wishes, needs and desires to me.

Instead, I had a few good spars. The first serious fight I had ever been in. It made me feel very grown up, and independant to be asked-by the King no less-to take out the gunmens assistances at one barricade in particular. There were 4 of them. They didn't pay me much attention, I was little more than a toddler in their eyes and I'm sure they thought it quite ludicrous that the King had fetched a brat from playschool to come and do battled against what they considered to be a dangerous rebel faction.

I was classed an elite at birth, but at that age my maximum power level was 274, Though I only had to use about half my maximum power anyway. They really weren't a powerful race. I still wasn't that good with energy attacks, though I'd been working on them and so I had to go fist-to-face on the gunners assistants.

The first blow, I recall thinking it was like striking a jelly-mushroom I'd found in the woods once. The creatures were soft flesh and the man screamed and I screamed too. I dont know why, other than it felt good. The difference was my screams were exultant and wild with accomplishment, while his were wild with hysteria and clearly motivated by agony. I hit him with my elbow then, he collapsed, gasping and choking on blood.

The 3rd guy got his shield up before I could deck him properly so I stuck my bare hand into his shield, I could feel the heat of the shield burning me, like water thats too hot. He yelled and screamed and I yelled and blew him 30 ft back with a close range ki attack. When this skirmish was over, their groaning and crying is what let us know they were all still alive. I hadn't been going for a kill, but I'd assumed they were finished. I was a little dissapointed that I'd failed. My father put one hand on my shoulder, and congratulated me.

It took close to a month before we were done with the mission. Four planets, an extensive rebel network between them and our intensive efforts to do no more than the absolute minimum of needed damage to the planet itself.

Plus, there was also all sorts of paper work. I hated that part, the first couple of days I sat in the room with my father, quiet and idle while he and his council and the leaders of the now complacent rebels went over details and drew up a new first two days I declined to go play with the others and stayed as near my father as I could. I had wanted very badly to be a grown up about this whole thing. Yet, on the 3rd day, when my father asked if I'd join him, I politely declined and went to find someone to play with.

Two days later the business was concluded, a new treaty signed and we were on our way home. We took the long way back home because we had to make a few stops on the way back to different planets and systems, but there was a general air of excitement and accomplishment that seemed to grow with each passing cycle.

Every sleep time they sent us to our beds, I lay awake, listening to my older siblings talking about their respective exploits, anticipating the praise they'd earn from their mothers for their heroics. No one asked, on the whole trip back how my first mission had gone. It was a little upsetting at first. They had never purposefully shunned me before and I knew that, everyone of my siblings wanted to know what the Saiyan King was like in action and was probably curious about how I had handled myself. But they didn't ask.

I got a curious feeling in my chest when I realized that they wouldn't ask, but on the whole, I found that I didn't mind. As I listened to my siblings tales and revelry, I knew in my private mind that I didn't need their approval or companionship.

I'd lie awake remembering the feel of my fathers hand on my shoulder, the pride in his voice as he congratulated me and I'd anticipated my mothers approving smile and I knew that I'd be just fine.I wasn't quite 4 years old, so I had no way of knowing that a nasty surprise was waiting for me when I got home that would disrupt my peaceful existence and begin the process of taking my mother from me.

Story Word Count: 4,670.

So, whaddya think, hmm? Please dont forget to review and chapter 2 will be out soon.